to give half-a-crown, where a shilling answered nobly. Two coachmen retired to the bosoms of their families, one at Salisbury, and one at Exeter, without guessing what a hero, both of fame, and cash, had been sitting behind them, and watching them keenly, and giving them a shilling, to be thankful for. If they had known, they would have looked each one at his shilling arithmetically; as the timehallowed manner of the cabman is; who seems to say, 'there are twelve pence in it; and I scorn you for every one of them.' But when the Quicksilver began to lose some of its too mercurial properties, westward of the faithful city; and a coachman sat upon the box, who had almost time enough to speak, without pulling out his watch; General Punk came forward well, with some very shrewd remarks about the weather, every one of which would have cost him twopence, if offered in the earlier stages. They would stand him in that amount even now; he knew that he must come out handsomely, when he should stop at Colonel Westcombe's gate; and having brought up his courage to a full crown-piece, for the coachman and guard to apportion, he might as well have his talk, out of it. but "Five minutes after time already," he said, pulling out a vast gold watch, as they trotted past South Tawton; "but I suppose you don't care about time down here." "No sir, not very much," the coachman answered; we gets a lot of gentlemen, with heaps of luggage, that we ought to have left behind, of rights. Where be you going to get down, sir?" "At Colonel Westcombe's, Westcombe Hall, a little way beyond Okehampton. My luggage need not cost you more that thirty seconds, if you have arranged it properly." "Colonel Westcombe is a very nice gentleman, sir. Likewise a liberal one, in all his ways. We shall not grudge a minute or two, at his gate." 'My things must be handled with care," said the General; "and it takes me a little time to get down. These coaches are made so confoundedly narrow. I have got the cramp in both my legs, and a Frenchman's bullet in one of them. I must not be hurried, if it takes ten minutes." "Right, sir; you shall not be hurried;" the coachman answered cheerfully. "The likes of us must make allowance, for the gentlemen as have fought for us.' "This fellow will expect at least half-aguinea," thought the General, regretting his patriotism, and relapsing into silence, to save gold. For here was one of those rich men, who look after their money sharply, having enough to make it worth their while. Neither do they value it one halfpenny the less, for the very weak reason, that they soon must say "good bye;" but rather, with the loyalty of friends who soon must part, cling heartily, and faithfully, to every token of it. This was not the only thing that made him so respectable. For General Punk had a hundred virtues, even more noble than parsimony. He was brave, determined, straight-forward, contemptuous, candid, loquacious, tender hearted, fiery, and conservative. And people, who began with making sad mouths at him (from the salt of his crust), very often went on (when they were pelled to do so), deeper into him, with a nicely growing relish. For he did not pretend to be a superior man. a CHAPTER XXXV.-WORLDLY WISDOM. com THE sagacious Jack had brought down pair of steps, for he knew that General Punk was shaky in his lower members. That distinguished officer had never been at Westcombe Hall, before, and was now determined to have a good time of it. When last he came to shoot something, or somebody, in the company of his ancient friend, Colonel Westcombe was a poor man, living in a little house near Frome; and only able to procure, from wealthier neighbours, a day or two of sport, just to keep his hand in. But the General had enjoyed his visit rarely, and abstained from shooting anything, except a little piece of Jack. Now when, with the help of that young man, he was safely landed at the Colonel's gate, and rendered into the owner's arms, the General counted all his boxes, blew up his man, because one of them was uncorded, and then shook hands with everybody, including John Sage, who had a red waistcoat on. "Magnificent," he said, magnificent! I had no idea there were such hills in England.” In honour of this special guest, Mrs. Westcombe came down that day to dinner, which she very seldom did ; not from any small reserve; but because she could not take food like the rest, and feared to make her visitors uncomfortable. And the Colonel was in the very best of spirits, and prepared to fight his way through anything. "We hoped to have had a very lively young lady, and a very handsome one as well," he said, "who would put even General Punk upon his mettle-my fair Godchild, Julia Touchwood. But she cannot come, until to-morrow. Prepare told you, for the very rarest pluck, and selfpossession. But what can you say, in the teeth of a man's own statement, and confession ?" 'Sir, I would tell him that he was a liar. That a man may speak falsely, for reasons of his own, but cannot act falsely to his whole nature." "I know that you have sometimes looked at it in that way; and my own mind goes with you. But the man lives under a ban for his life; whether he has earned it by his deeds, or by his words. And you would not like your only son to marry that man's daughter." Certainly not, while the father lived uncleared. But he is dead long ago. And his daughter may be pardoned." Jack, you be off now. We want to talk about you;" Colonel Westcombe said, when the dessert was done with, and the upshot of sunset, on the brown oak beams, was quivering like water-weeds. "Take Plover, and Bell, for a run; or go and catch us half-a-man of the world;" Colonel Westcombe dozen trout for breakfast." "You are a generous man, as well as a answered, with a sad look at his friend. "But Pole is not dead. He is living here on Dartmoor; and my son Jack is in love with his daughter. And worse than that, he has engaged himself so far, that he cannot honour "A very extraordinary young man," the General observed to the Colonel; as Jack with a bow, but without a word, withdrew. "I never could bear the idea of having a son; because they are so envious. But if I could | ably draw back.” have had a boy of such discipline as yours, I do believe I could have got on with him." don't believe the sharpest fellow on the Staff could do it; or at any rate not without three tries. What did you send him to Oxford for ?" "What a kettle of fish, to be sure! It serves you quite right for educating him. "You must not suppose that I have grown We never wanted any education. I can spell Master Jack, as I grow a cabbage, or a cu-Officer,' but I can't spell 'Military.' And I cumber. He is the result of a quantity of care, and discipline, and good example. But in spite of all that," said the Colonel, coming nearer, "he falls out of the ranks sometimes. He is a very steady-going young fellow; but he has a confoundedly strong will of his own." "No soldier is much good, without that, when it comes to close quarters, and the bayonet." "That is true enough, as we have often proved. But this must be taken in a different light. It is a most extraordinary thing altogether; and I cannot tell what to make of it. You remember young Pole, of the 'Never mind Whats,' as we used to call them; and the mysterious scrape he got into?" "I should rather think I did; " replied General Punk, shaking off the drowsiness of his long journey; "Westcombe, that was one of the things which I never could make head or tail of, and never hope to do so." "You would have said that he was the very last man in the whole British army, to act as he did?” "Sir,” said the General, with a strong expression; "I would as soon have believed it of myself, or you." "So would I. So would I," exclaimed Colonel Westcombe; "I had reason to love, and admire that young fellow, as I have often "Because he was such a dab at Latin; and there wasn't any fighting to be got. However it is too late to talk about that. The question is, what am I to do? And before you can say a word upon that point, you must listen to all that I have got to tell you." "A young fellow is generally at his worst, from two to four and twenty," General Punk, with good reason, declared, having suffered lately from one of them. "He looks back with contempt upon boys, who are a thousand times more amusing than himself; and he is stupid enough to hold his tongue, when he might make pleasant blunders.” "Jack is a sensible fellow," said the Colonel; "although he may not be amusing. But he says very clever things sometimes, according to my weak judgment. But he has not done a clever thing in this, I must confess; according to the views of the world, at least. But, my dear friend, we must not be too worldly; and when you hear the facts, you will be able to excuse him." After this little preface, he fell to, and recounted (so far as he knew it) all the story The concerning his son, and Rose Arthur. General listened, as a judge does to a Junior Counsel, with a patronising smile, and comfortable nods, to show that he was attending. "One thing you must remember," said the Colonel, at the finish, not being wholly pleased to have it taken coolly; "the young lady is a girl after my own heart, innocent, ladylike, gentle, and affectionate; careful, and thrifty, an admirable cook, highly accomplished, most elegant, and modest; not at all a chatterer, not at all a gadabout, not contradictory, not full of her own beauty- "Then you would not like her to be one of the greatest heiresses in England? I suppose that would be another obstacle, Westcombe." As he spoke, the General watched his friend, to test his sincerity, as the best friends do. "That would be a very great obstacle indeed, and a fatal one altogether, becauseBut Punk, you are joking. Her father is a poor man, maintaining himself by his own work." "I did not even know that he was living ;" the General answered, with the smile of one who has the clue to an astonishment; "it was said that he had shot himself; and it seemed quite natural. But if he is living, and can prove his identity, he is now Lord Pole, by courtesy; the only surviving son of that rakish old hermit, the old Earl Delapole." "But there is a grandson, Lord Pole's son, who stands between this man, and the succession. The son of that man, who tried to screen his poor brother. I know that he is dead; but his son is living." "Not he!" cried the General; "he is as dead as this nut-shell. He was carried off by small-pox, some months ago. The poor old Earl was mad about it, and would not even let the news get into the papers." "Probably, among all who care to know it. I heard it; but it did not concern me much; and I never thought about it, from that time to this. But what a fine chance for Master Jack!" “I am sorry for the poor fellow, and disappointed on my own account. But perhaps it is all for the best;" said the Colonel; "he may fret a little; and he must not walk so much." "What do you mean?" asked General Punk: "your course is clear; mapped out, as we used to say, by the march of the enemy. You nab the young heiress at once, of course ; and your son is a made man, gets in for the County, where the old Earl's property lies, and invites me to shoot over fifty square miles. I have earned that by bringing you this great news." "No," said Colonel Westcombe, looking sternly, but speaking as mildly as he could to his ancient friend, and present guest; "my boy's course is the opposite to that; unless he cuts loose from his father, and from his old father's ideas of"-honour he was going to say, but for fear of wounding his friend, said justice; Jack must withdraw, immedi "I shall know;" replied his host, with the self-control which age had taught him. "And that is the first thing a man must consider. My dear friend, when you come to think, you will see that I could not act so.” "I am sorry, if I have given bad advice;" the General answered warmly. "That comes of considering the interests of one's friends. But really, your scruples are quite childish.” "Wise, or unwise, they are not to be got over. If you were in my place, you would have them. Now acting according to them, what am I to do? The position is a most unpleasant one." "From my point of view, which you reject, the position is a commanding one. But a great deal depends upon one question. Is the girl in love with Jack?" "That is more than I can say at present. My son is so diffident, that he fears to believe it. But I think that she likes him. How could she help it? But he has not had so very many chances." Oh why, and oh woe-as old Dods used to say—what a difference a little thing makes! You remember the Marquis of C and three bullets that he carried on his watchchain, for intercepting his three interceptors. But Pole lives such a lonely life and is severed from all his friends so wholly, that I dare say he has not heard a word of all this. And "If the girl is in love with Jack," General from what I am told of him he will not want Punk laid down the law, as if he were Cupid's to hear it. Is it generally known, in London?" | Commander-in-chief-"allow me to put up my bad leg, in the absence of the ladies-in better days, it kept the prices up. Morethen sooner or later, she will have him, what-over, they find in their work less solace. ever you may do, my friend; or else she is not a true-born Pole. What is she like? Has she got their chin?" "I did not notice it particularly; and I did not know then who she was. Her eyes took my attention mainly. Let me see -yes, she has a very good chin, pointed, without being sharp, you know." "Then she will have Jack, you may depend upon it. The girls always have their own way now. It is not as it used to be. All you have to do, is to do nothing; if you will not make a bold stroke for it." course. to you. "I must consider. I must counsel with my wife. She always hits upon the proper But come, I am neglecting my duty You always have one glass of Burgundy, I know. There is no gout in your system. They have knocked that pretty well out of us both. There is a good side to everything." "I'll believe it, when I find one to my bad leg;" said the General, who was not an optimist. CHAPTER XXXVI.-ROVING SHOTS. How can they identify themselves, over three "And what would I give for six inches on," the Vicar answered pleasantly; "and to have my shoulders, where my head is!"' This proves nothing but the discontent of man-a matter which requires no proving. But the Captain, on the whole, was not discontented now, if only he could have his own way. For his pears were growing ruddy from the passage of the wind-which colours fruit infinitely more than any sun—and his apples were clustering against each other's cheeks, and his grapes were swelling, like MEANWHILE, " Captain Larks," as he liked that bunchy apparatus of a cow, which society to be called by his neighbours, was going on loves, but never mentions. I never had steadily. Of all the busy year, which sur- such a grand crop in all my life, in spite of rounds the gardener, with a Zodiac of cluster- all the maggots, and the earwigs, and the ing tasks, there is no busier time, than when drought;" the Captain declared candidly to he expects once more to see the Pleiads. his pipe in confidence. "But the wasps are The dry heats of summer are mainly gone coming out, and the rabbits getting troublethen, and the nights of muttering thunder; some, and a lot of bluetits have come down and the drowsy weight of the air begins to from the furze. To go away now would be tissue its track with gossamer. gossamer. For the simple murder. And thirty new pears, from gentle dew, which has failed the short weak Leroy come into bearing, that must be night, is spread abroad again, and a new watched every day, at least, and the big ones bloom mantles on the seasoned leaves, and fastened to their spurs with bast. All of the morning, getting up when men can see it, Van Mons', or Esperen's raising, or that other glitters at its leisure down long avenues of old officer-what a queer thing it is, that freshness. since the peace set in, so many French, and Belgian, officers of cavalry have been great pear growers. The one pursuit seems to lead up to the other. But here comes Rose ! What now, my pet? How pale you look! And it takes a good deal to make my little girl look pale." A gardener ought to be a short man fairly, so that his fruit may not knock him on the head. That he, with amazement at his own skill-which after all, has not much to do with it—may stand with his hat on, and look up, and thank Providence for its bounty, and hope to save some of it from felonious boys. For there is no other work of all the poor exiles of Paradise, beset with so many expulsive plagues, as this of their original breakdown. Man seems to know it, and to modify his hopes; or, when experience has killed them, to moderate his grumbling to the utmost. Who ever heard a gardener grumble? Farmers do so, because it is their nature; and "No. Sometimes I become so stupid, that it makes me ashamed, when I begin to think." As Rose pulled her hat off, and tried to look back, through the twinkling maze of leaves, her father set off at a very rapid pace for a person of his age and substance. He scattered a score of pears right and left, even from his best nursed pyramids, and he rushed to the river-course (arcaded now with filberts, which danced above the stream, for the trout to jump at) but neither there, nor anywhere could he descry a robber. He had given chase, according to his daughter's frightened glance, and in sequence of his own uneasiness. "There is nobody;" he said, as he came back, short of breath. "What made you think there was anybody?" "Because I saw him; "answered Rose, with vivid reason. “I saw him, as clearly as I see you now. A tall dark man, with a rough coat on, standing in the bushes, and staring at me." "Show me the spot, where you fancy that he stood. You have been a little nervous, for some days, my darling. If a man has If a man has been there, we shall find some traces." Some clearness is required, as in marking down a woodcock, to show, among a crowd of trees, precisely the position of the something that has caught the eye. But Rose, who worked lovingly among her father's trees, and knew them all as thoroughly as her own stitch-work, led the way at once to a quick turn of the Christow, where a crest of fern hung over it. "He was in this fern; for I saw a broken frond hanging down between me, and his sandy-coloured legs." "Well done, my dear!" said Mr. Arthur, with a laugh, to restore her to a lighter mood. "His sandy-coloured trousers, I suppose you mean, or breeches, or whatever 'tis, that adorns the rat-catcher's nether man. No doubt it was a rat-catcher, or some other poacher. Dicky Touchwood pays sixpence a head for live rats, to keep his new pack of little terriers in training. No place is sacred where a rat lives now." He knew, as well as Rose, that it was no rat-catcher; but he could not bear to see her frightened in her own home-quarters. "I thought that the rat-catchers always brought their dogs," she answered, "and at least one boy, for company. I told you what Mike I told you what Mike Smith said to me if you was to give me three score pun', Miss, I would not go arattin', up the river, by my sell'.' And Mike is considered, as you are aware, the bravest man in Christowell, except John Sage." "The fault of those excessively brave men is their tendency to under-rate their own courage. But certainly, there has been some one, or other, here; probably intending ill to my poor pears. Ah, now I see; how stupid of me! That man near Exeter-whatever is his name? The one who was so terribly put out, because he had nothing fit to hold a candle to my Léon Leclerc, and could not find out the name of them, although it was a "And leave all the labels on his trees; said Rose; which made her father smile, while he told her that she could not see the proper force of any clear reasoning. "But what was this jealous fellow like, my dear?" He continued, as he saw that all her little scare was over. "To rob me of my money, is a charitable theft; but to rob me of my knowledge is the rapacity of a cur." "How can I tell what he was like, dear father; when the mere sight of him so frightened me? But he did not look like a gardening man; for they generally get into a lazy kind of stare.” | "I am sure that he never meant me because he told me that I had very good ideas, sounder and more solid, ten times over, than any of my father's. He believed it thoroughly. And who was I to correct him ?" "Not at all the proper one to do it. It would have been most ungracious. But I will take a walk with you, by and by, my dear. We will go as far as Brent-Fuzz corner. Mrs. Slowbury has a sore throat, you say; we will take her some medlar jelly. And there may be something left. there for us by Master Pugsley. work all the day, and have a walk this evening." Let us |